


gray hearts

by aurora_borealis



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:14:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_borealis/pseuds/aurora_borealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shireen had not exactly known what to expect from marrying Rickon, but this wasn't what she thought would happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gray hearts

There had been no bedding ceremony, Shireen is thankful for. Though fewer people say openly how monstrous they think her face is- and they don't have to say it loud for her to know- she still is as insecure as she was as a child. Sometimes she wishes she could be like her mother, who does not care about people's shallow judgments. Who is always so dutiful and powerful. Who does not fear her own husband.

Rickon has not been cruel to her. Not at their first meeting, but he did not look her in the face and his eyes had seemed interchangable with his wolf's. Shaggydog, the wolf's name is, and the wolf has taken kindly to her. And he was not cruel to her tonight either. At the wedding feast he licked her fingers clean, which had made her smile. Rickon had smiled back but it was a strange one, half empty and half full of distant broken off thoughts.

He is of the north but they say he is just as much wildling, and even more Skagosi. She's read of the island- unvisited and with ancient traditions. Eating the flesh of men. That was not served, of course.

She jumps as the door slams open, and the wolf walks in slowly ahead of his companion. Her husband. He is tall, with long and unkempt hair of fire, old and thick and ragged gray furs covering his body. (They said the Young Wolf was half wolf, but this one, they say, is a wolf who looks like a man.) She closes her mouth tight, swallowing hard. (He told me he would like to marry me when we first met, he said I was as good and true as they said of me. And when I said they said I was gray, he said that was the color of the north. But his voice was like nothing I had ever heard.)

With even his boots on he clambers onto the bed. She inhales quickly, thinking that soon it will be over, he cannot possibly be too rough- he is younger than her by years. He is practically a boy. (A wolf boy, though...) Long moments have passed but he's done nothing but sit on the bed with his arms around his legs like a child. It almost strangely looks fitting to him.

She frowns, her eyebrows tilting down, and she wonders what is going on with him. But if he is truly a beast, he would have shown by now, she tells herself. "Husband..." the word is strange on her tongue. "Are you all right?" she asks softly.

He looks back at her, his eyes widening round and enthralled like no one has ever said those words to him, or to anyone. "I just thought..." she doesn't finish her sentence, looking down at her hands. They are trembling slightly.

He bites his lip and roughly extends his hand to hers. "Don't worry," he tells her. "I want to keep you safe." His words are sad, she realizes. His voice is almost pleading. She remembers the stories- he escaped with his brother, but they never found him. And he was so young then...when it was all happening she had been older, but in truth, she'd been young too. Almost a thousand years ago, it seems.

She realizes he's holding her now. He is younger, but larger and taller and bulkier and clinging tighter than anyone who has ever touched her before as if he can't let go or something bad will happen. "I know a lot of it is true and that I might be frightening to you," he says under his breath. It sounds like a confession. "I know I'm not like the other lords. Not like most men. But to you I'll be good. Wife," he adds on as if he thinks he has to.

"Shireen," she tells him, her hand on his. She doesn't let go. Once she was called the saddest child anyone had ever seen, after all.

"If you want, I'll stay. And then please don't leave either," he asks of her then, later, after they've been resting in each other's arms. They haven't bedded yet. He's never done it, which surprises her almost. She supposes it will be for another night. His voice sounds so tired, and at the end of the bed, Shaggydog rests against her feet.

"I won't," she promises. Because they call him a beast and they call her a monster, but really he's just a boy who is a wolf and she's a girl from the storms. Maybe if she hadn't been she wouldn't be able to see into him, and he would not have seen into her.

She's not sure, but maybe this is the first time in so long she has not felt alone.


End file.
